Garth of Tregillis (10 page)

‘Naturally,’ I said tightly. ‘I’m to tutor Emile, but my duties end there. I am not your slave, Mr. Seaton.’

He considered my words dispassionately, then let his gaze wander to my hair and unconsciously I put my hand up to try and smooth it back. It must be untidy, I knew. I had always disliked the fact that it was more red than gold and was inclined to spring up wildly over my head at the slightest provocation.

‘You have red hair, Miss Westall,’ he remarked. ‘Perhaps that accounts for your quick temper.’

‘I am not quick-tempered,’ I replied heatedly. ‘Anyone in my position—as you call it—would resent being treated in such a way. And anyway,’ I added, before I had time to consider my words, ‘my hair is not red.’

I thought I detected a quirk of genuine amusement in the deep-set eyes. Why had I made such a stupid, revealing remark? I thought, furious at myself.

‘So that’s it! You consider it demeaning to be treated as an employee! How exactly did you visualise the position you would fill at Tregillis, I wonder?’

I hesitated. It was true, of course, that not even from the first had I seen myself as an employee. My reasons for coming to Tregillis were complex, but the need for money was certainly not one of them, because Diana had been an extremely wealthy young woman and my inheritance from her ensured that I should always be independent of having to take a job, no matter how congenial.

Again, I hadn’t seen myself as a guest in this man’s home, but on the other hand I hadn’t visualized myself as being subservient. I remembered the quick, ingratiating tones of Mrs. Kinnefer as she greeted him on his arrival. These had varied considerably from her tone of voice towards me. To her, I was simply another of Garth’s dependents: like herself, relying on his bounty.

One word from him and she could be banished, her little kingdom taken from her and, bereft of all authority, for it was unlikely that at her age she would be able to obtain another position of equal importance, to her it would be the end. It was natural she should be nervous of offending the man who had such power over her future.

It was impossible, of course, that I could let Garth know that I was completely independent of his moods and tenses. Better to appear slightly apprehensive than to let him suspect that I wasn’t quite what I appeared!

‘All I expected,’ I said cautiously, ‘was to be treated with the same consideration that you might give to people who were not in your employ.’

He laughed shortly. ‘But my dear, good Miss Westall, I don’t give consideration to anyone—whether they be in my employ or not. I’m afraid you’ll have to take me as you find me. It’s a bit too late for me to change my ways, and after all, as I said, we can always avoid each other if we find that we are—how shall I put it— incompatible.’

I stared at him in silence, choking back a retort. He was the type of man I instinctively disliked, brusque, almost uncouth.

‘And by the way,’ he added, ‘much as your feminine vanity may resent it, I’m afraid your hair is very definitely red. I should be interested to know why you resent having red hair. I’ve a feeling, Miss Westall, in spite of all your reservations concerning me, you and I have very much in common. We are nonconformists and that, in a way, should forge a bond between us, don’t you agree?’

He was mocking me, I knew, and I should appear even more ridiculous in his eyes if I gave him a serious answer. Instead I said coldly, ‘You’re mistaken, Mr. Seaton. I can’t imagine us having the smallest thing in common.’

I heard the low, mellow tones of a clock striking in the distance. ‘It’s very late,’ I said. ‘I think it’s time I was going back to my room.’

‘Your wish is my command.’ He sketched a sort of bow and it was easy to imagine him in a tiered cape, I thought a little grimly, as I swept past with all the dignity I could muster, for I had no doubt that he had inherited some of the blood of his looting ancestors.

When I reached my room I locked the door. I don’t know why I did it, but somehow I realized that my placid life at Tregillis was over. The master had returned and with him a new element had sprung to life in the vast old house. It was as though in the sprawling, sunbaked pile, a new tension was in the atmosphere; as though Tregillis realized that its master now paced its halls.

I was dozing off to sleep again when there was a soft knock on the door. I sat up in bed, sleepy and confused, but not startled.

This was not, I felt sure, the way in which the master of Tregillis would announce his presence should he decide on paying me a nocturnal visit.

I slipped out of bed and unlocked the door.

Outside stood Eunice. She was clad in a mannish-looking dressing-gown that I suspected had formerly been one of Giles’. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she whispered conspiratorially and, without waiting for an invitation, slipped past me into the room.

As soon as I shut the door she turned to me eagerly. ‘Garth has come back, hasn’t he?’

I nodded.

‘I thought it was he! Up there in my eyrie, I’m a bit too far away to keep tabs on everything that goes on, but I could hear a great deal of scuttling and activity. It looks like Garth has quarrelled with Armanell, otherwise why should he have returned so soon? Yes, that’s it, they must have quarrelled,’ she repeated with relish. ‘It doesn’t surprise me in the least. Armanell was always a spitfire and ready with that cruel tongue of hers if anyone crossed her. Well, I must say it’s a great relief to think things may be over between them at last, for I assure you if Armanell were to become mistress of Tregillis there would be some changes here.’ She stopped and brooded for a moment. ‘It looks as if something has put a stopper on their marriage plans, because I’m almost certain he intended to make Armanell his bride. Oh, he doesn’t say anything or even hint—but then that’s his way. He simply does things quietly and presents you with a situation.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean he and Armanell must have planned to get married.

Then that child, Emile! Oh, I know all about him! Young Hilda keeps me well informed, you know. Why else should he have him here unless Armanell and himself had reached an arrangement?

Well, it looks as if it’s off now and I can’t say I’m sorry.’

‘But wouldn’t it be a good thing,’ I said hesitantly, ‘that he should marry? He has always been in love with her, hasn’t he?

And Tregillis needs a mistress.’ The words, I knew, were what were appropriate to say, yet somehow they rang hollow to my own ear.

Eunice tightened the cord of her dressing-gown and gazed at me in exasperation. ‘You talk like that because you don’t know Armanell. Well, I do. I remember her as a young girl—selfish, vain. She fed like a vampire on the admiration of the men around her. She must have everyone in her thrall or she was not satisfied.

Oh, she’s very beautiful, I grant you, but she used her beauty to ensnare. No doubt she fancied herself as the Comtesse de Chalandon. I don’t imagine she relishes the idea of playing second fiddle to young Emile, for he’ll take over when he comes of age. She doesn’t see herself as the dowager queen, I can assure you. She must always be first and foremost in whatever position she finds herself. As Garth’s bride she’d be both wealthy and powerful.’ She chuckled wryly. ‘And I guarantee one of the first things she’d do would be to chuck Mrs. Kinnefer out. Not, mind you, that I hold any brief for the woman. She’s much too pompous and self-important, but she’s an excellent organizer and she makes things as comfortable as she can for me.’ Again she relapsed into a brooding silence. ‘Yes, I’d be sorry if Mrs.

Kinnefer were to be sent away, for she was always extremely loyal to Giles. I’ve no doubt she felt there was something extremely fishy about the whole business, but then she was in no position to say anything. Her whole livelihood depends on keeping in the new heir’s favour, and anyway, while she might be suspicious, she doesn’t really know anything—not as I know it.

But then my room overlooks the cove. Garth must have forgotten that when he let his ambitions get the better of him.’

The last words were said almost in a whisper and I saw her staring ahead as though she had forgotten my presence. Had Diana been right then in her suspicions of Garth? Now that I had met the man those suspicions were not as bizarre as they had seemed on that day in London when I had opened the desk and discovered the diary. Instinctively I knew that the man I had met in the library was utterly ruthless. Once he had made up his mind on a course of action nothing would deflect him from it. There was no softness, no sentiment in this man. But it did appear that he had an Achilles heel in Armanell Lelant. I felt an intense curiosity concerning her. Verity Brett had spoken of her as beautiful and gracious, and Eunice had conceded her beauty but had depicted her as a sort of Circe. Which one was right? Verity, of course, had admitted that, as a fisherman’s daughter, she had no social intercourse with Armanell or the Seatons. It was only from a distance she had seen them. Armanell, beautiful and imperious, riding past with Garth. No doubt to someone of her obviously artistic and romantic temperament, Armanell would indeed be like Queen Guinevere, but Eunice appeared not to be labouring under any such delusions and Eunice was much more likely to know the true picture. On the other hand, as someone living on Garth’s bounty, her own little domain which she had established in the upper storey was threatened by any changes that might take place at Tregillis. Each journey away from home by Garth must be to her suspect. Sooner or later the thing she dreaded might take shape and Armanell return triumphant as a bride, determined, like a new broom, to sweep Tregillis clean of all its old retainers and encumbrances.

After she had gone and I lay staring at the moonlight that flooded through my window, I realized that she didn’t really care what my reaction might be to her nocturnal visit. I was simply someone to whom she could express her thoughts. Garth had returned suspiciously early and she was jubilant that it indicated a quarrel between him and Armanell. But did it? Only wishful thinking could have prevented her from assuming that his return might have another significance. It could be to prepare Tregillis for his bride.

I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. It was foolish, I knew, to associate myself too closely with the affairs of a man whom I disliked and distrusted so acutely.

ON the following morning breakfast was brought to me by Hilda.

There was about her an air of suppressed excitement: her cheeks were brighter than usual and her eyes sparkled and I wondered if this was due to the return of her employer. The house had been like a sleeping castle until his vibrant, dark, vital presence had brought it to life.

‘Imagine, I was sound asleep when Mr. Seaton arrived from abroad! You could have knocked me down with a feather,’ said Hilda, ‘when I walked straight into him in the corridor this morning. “Good morning, Hilda”, he said to me.’ She giggled happily.

So even the maids were affected by his presence! It was clear that the girl was half in love with him, I thought irritably.

When Hilda had gone, I began my breakfast in an angry mood, as I recollected the events of the previous night. I became even more angry as I thought that Garth had apparently told Melinda she might be present at Emile’s lessons. It was clear that she intended to seize the opportunity to be as naughty as possible. Did Garth seriously expect the lessons to be of any use to Emile while Melinda was free to be as disruptive as she pleased? Then I recalled Mrs. Kinnefer’s remark that Garth was the only person Melinda respected and I decided that the first thing I would do would be to ask for an interview with Garth Seaton and protest against Melinda’s presence at the lessons.

With this resolution I sprang out of bed and began to dress. A shaft of morning sunlight shone through the window raising bright copper lights in my flamboyant curls, and as I surveyed myself in the mirror I remembered with annoyance Garth Seaton’s remarks about my hair. Everyone else at Tregillis seemed to be under his spell, I thought resentfully, and I decided that the picture I should present in our interview should differ as much as possible from that of the tousle-headed girl with slippers peeping beneath her dressing-gown who had been caught red-handed in the library on the previous evening.

I put on a grey linen dress with a wide snowy puritan collar, combed my hair back severely until the waves in it were flattened and secured it at the nape of my neck with plenty of pins to keep it under restraint.

Still in a belligerent mood I began to descend the stairs—only to find when I reached the hall that there was no sign of anyone around. I realized then that I had not the slightest idea where, in that vast house, Garth Seaton might be found—that is, if he was in the house at all and had not already gone out. The thing to do would be to pull the bell beside the giant chimney place in the hall, but in my character as menial at Tregillis. I hesitated to do this. I prowled around for a while, peeping into the public rooms.